


Bring Me Home

by sunhawk (sunhawkflamesprite)



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, M/M, Pre-Slash, Spoilers: s1 season finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-07
Updated: 2011-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-23 12:38:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunhawkflamesprite/pseuds/sunhawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny drags Steve back home to New Jersey and Steve's got a serious problem with sleep, among other things...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Me Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imaginarycircus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginarycircus/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Being Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/203269) by [imaginarycircus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginarycircus/pseuds/imaginarycircus). 



> This is a fic inspired by imaginarycircus' "Being Home" 'verse, I didn't try to write something in her world but instead took a page from her book to write something similiar. I hope she doesn't mind that I borrowed some elements of her 'verse! (Reading "Being Home" first isn't strictly necessary to understand this fic, but it's heartily reccomended anyway)
> 
> AN2: I was trying to get this fic finished to cheer imaginarycircus up when she was having trouble writing but she started writing again before I could finish this fic, oh irony! LOL Regardless, I hope you enjoy the fic you inspired, you are a great writer and a lovely lady, both in the fandom and out :) This one's for you, deary!
> 
> AN3: Many thanks to stellarmeadow for her awesome beta'ing! Thanks for helping me keep the fic a surprise :)

***

 

Waking with a gasp, Steve found himself panting to catch his breath, fighting a phantom feeling of suffocation. The unexpected adrenaline surge kept his muscles rigid and trembling, and he stared at nothing as he tried to stifle the sounds he was making. He was aware that his scalp itched and realized that he'd broken out in a light sweat to go along with his pounding heart. Steve closed his eyes tight as conflicting emotions of guilt, relief and embarrassment chased themselves around in his overheated skull. He tried to ignore the residual images of the dream from which he'd just so violently torn himself free and concentrated on slowing his heart rate back to something resembling normal, gritting his teeth.

Some long minutes later, Steve was able to relax enough to unclench his jaw, lying on his back on the narrow single bed with his legs dangling over the end nearly up to his knees. Beside him, on the other single bed barely more than a foot away in the tiny bedroom, he could hear Danny snoring gently. The starlight from the window between them almost gave enough light to see by; if Steve turned his head, he would see the faint light picking up the curve of Danny's white-tee-shirted shoulder, sleeping on his stomach with his face turned towards Steve, a few blond strands of hair coming loose from their usual slickback and lying in a tumble on his pillow. But for the moment, Steve kept his eyes closed and tried to fall back asleep.

A few hours ago, he'd fallen asleep with no problem, not even noticing the shortness of the bed as he felt himself dragged under by his exhaustion. The generous second helpings of dinner that Steve had tucked away, at the gentle insistence of Danny's mother, had definitely helped push him along as well, the memory bringing a faint smile to Steve's face. If Steve had been able to hold a single thought in his head during the whole whirlwind dinner event, with Danny's family shouting and laughing and teasing each other mercilessly, he might have had the chance to wonder how the loudmouth clan of Danny's had adopted Steve without any hesitation. He did wonder if he should feel embarrassed, that maybe he had looked so pathetic that he'd just been like a lost dog that Danny had brought home. Steve had certainly sometimes felt a little like some sad stray: trapped between cold concrete walls, always hungry, always having to keep an eye out for trouble, never really sleeping at night. Steve had been trained as a SEAL to maintain the kind of hyper-vigilant state of alertness that got him through his classified missions, but he'd never had a mission that had lasted longer than a few weeks. Six months in jail had slowly but surely worn away at Steve's nerves: constantly running on empty and living each day with a razor-sharp awareness of just how quickly death could come for him if he let his guard down, even for a second.

But here, lying in Danny's childhood bedroom where he and his brother used to sleep, there was warmth and a feeling of security, a coziness that Steve only half-remembered from his own childhood, when his mother had still been alive. There was a faint sweet smell in the house, like the ghost of someone's baking, and the cotton sheets beneath Steve felt soft with age, soothing against his overheated skin. He wanted nothing more than to relax and go back to sleep, and yet Steve shuffled and fidgeted, trying to lie on his side only to turn to his other side before he could even start to relax. After a minute of rustling the sheets, Steve settled once again on his back, blowing out a long breath of frustration. He glanced around the darkened room, his restless gaze bouncing off the few stray glow-in-the-dark star stickers dotting the ceiling, a leftover from Danny's childhood, before his gaze swept over Danny and Steve realized he was being watched in turn. There was just enough light for Steve to catch the gleam of Danny's half-lidded gaze as he lay with his cheek still on his pillow.

"Can't sleep?" Danny rumbled softly, his voice coming out as a sort of growly whisper that made Steve want to smile. But he was too busy feeling bad for waking Danny up, because Danny had been as exhausted as Steve after their long flight to Jersey.

"Sorry the bed's that bad, should've pushed them together," Danny continued sleepily, oblivious to Steve's guilt and not waiting for Steve to answer him.

"It's fine," Steve said quietly, moving to bend his arms and lace his fingers together under his head, trying to look casual. "Trust me, the beds on the Farragut weren't much longer than this, and three years later I didn't even notice anymore."

"Somehow I doubt they were really that short, unless the Army was secretly recruiting its own Lollypop Guild," Danny drawled, with a little twinkle to his nearly-closed eyes. Steve groaned softly, a reluctant chuckle dragged out of him.

"Be honest, that's what you missed the most while I was gone, wasn't it? Making me say 'Navy, dammit, Navy!'" Steve still sounded a bit raspy to his own ears, like his voice had gone rusty from disuse, but he managed a ghost of their usual witty banter.

"I dunno, I think there are other things I missed more..." Danny mumbled, his voice now serious but also with just a hint of teasing warmth, somehow looking deeply into Steve's eyes even from his reclined position and the distance between them. Steve swallowed, seeing the look, the promise of things to come in Danny's eyes, feeling that familiar tension that had them both snared since day one, a feeling that Steve had ruthlessly protected during his time inside, his small flame of hope against the darkness.

Now that he was free, now that he didn't have to live anymore with only his fragile dreams to keep him going, what was twisting Steve up the most was that he couldn't seem to breach the gap: he had a new awareness of the chasm that had grown, not just between himself and the world, but also those he loved best. He'd been so long without a friendly touch that he was in a strange, miserable place where he was both touch-starved and completely unable to deal with any sort of physical contact.

It had been bad enough when he'd come back into the 5-0 headquarters, having Kono pounce on him the minute he was inside the bullpen, wrapping her arms around him in a crushing bearhug. The sudden sensation of her arms tight around his shoulders, leaning all her weight against him, had felt like a lightning strike of sensory overload. For the split-second between his body reacting and his mind retaking control of the situation, there had been an eternity where Steve had felt himself come so perilously close to doing something to Kono that would have been pure reflex and completely lethal. The shock of that sudden awareness kept Steve frozen in place, gone so numb that he didn't even feel Jenna briefly join in on the hug, neither of the women seeming to be aware of how close to danger they were.

But Chin had seen, had been trailing far enough behind Kono to get a good look at Steve's face, and in that moment, Steve just wanted to curl up and die. He wanted to beg Chin to forgive him, wanted to try to explain, wanted to go back in time and make it so he would never see Chin pause like that, like he was assessing just how much of a threat Steve was. Then, the moment broke and Chin just smiled and clapped Steve on the shoulder, the careful placement of his hand the only sign that he'd noticed anything strange at all. His forgiving smile, the fact that he had given Steve the benefit of the doubt was both warming and worrying to Steve, who still wasn't sure he could trust himself.

At the time, Steve had been so worked up about his close call that he hadn't even noticed that Danny hadn't joined in on the touching, that he'd just stood to one side and watched Steve and the rest of the gang. But now, looking at Danny, Steve wondered why he'd kept his distance, wondered if Danny knew it was dangerous to get close to Steve, if he'd dragged Steve all the way to the mainland to keep him away from the team, to keep him from hurting them: Danny hadn't even waited more than a day after Steve had gotten out of jail before he'd shown up at Steve's place with two airline tickets already bought, telling Steve to shake a leg. But if that was true, why bring Steve here, why would Danny put his family at risk like that? Steve had been working so hard to keep himself contained around Danny's parents, his sisters, but he still tensed when anyone came too close, still couldn't help the slight tremble to every handshake he was forced to endure, trying to not shake apart at the seams. How long before he hurt someone? How long before his frayed control finally snapped?

"What were you dreaming about?" Danny said out of the blue, knocking Steve out of his never-ending cycle of self-recrimination. Steve blinked and refocused on Danny, who didn't seem perturbed that Steve had gone silent; he just looked at Steve with a sleepy but patient gaze. The part of Steve that was trying so hard to keep a lid on himself was tempted to tell Danny that it was nothing. It was the same part that was the product of a stubborn nature, combined with more than ten years of SEAL training that hammered home the need for strict self-reliance, no matter the personal cost.

Steve sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, using his movements as an excuse to not look at Danny, looking instead at his own knees. Steve rubbed an ache out of the back of his neck, sighing before he could stop himself, and closed his eyes: he didn't want to tell Danny about his nightmares, but at the same time.... he wanted to tell him more than anything. Steve wanted some sort of release, desperately struggled to find absolution, forgiveness for his mistakes and misguided decisions. And he wanted Danny to be the person to help him, wanted to lean on Danny's oak-strong strength, even as Steve cringed at the idea of being such a burden to Danny, more of a burden than he already was.

There was a soft rustling sound from the other bed, a whisper of movement closing in on Steve, and he opened his eyes, his face still looking downward. He saw two pajama-panted-in-dark-blue knees neatly slot themselves between Steve's own grey-cotton-covered knees, making their legs look like the closed teeth on a giant mismatched zipper. Steve could feel some of Danny's hair brushing against the top of his own head, knew that Danny's bowed head was so close to his own but Steve kept looking at their interlocked knees. When Danny's right knee gently bumped against Steve's left knee in a way that was both affectionate and just a touch intimate, Steve felt like it knocked loose the knot in his throat and words just spilled out:

"I was back in my cell, listening to the muttering voices, the bang of the bars and shuffle of someone being escorted somewhere, who the hell knows where, and ... I didn't get a lot of sleep a lot of the time, you know, I just.. it's like all of this, the getting out and being here, it was just another dream and I was still back there, I mean I had a good system of shifts, never sleeping too deep but enough... enough to stay alive but maybe I was finally crashing and dreaming, that you weren't really here and I was...you weren't there and I was... I..."

Steve couldn't finish the sentence, took a shaky breath instead, wanting really badly to tell Danny how scared he'd been to be alone again, trapped forever alone, never seeing the team again, never seeing Danny... Steve held his breath, feeling the slow burn of pent-up carbon dioxide held inside his lungs, and then he felt Danny's hand on the left side of his neck and all that air exploded out of him with a raw, low cry of shock. The warmth of Danny's palm and fingers, the solid weight of it, was like a live wire to Steve's nervous system and once again Steve felt his body straining to enact some violent reflex. Their eyes met, Danny watching him and tentatively moving like he was going to pull his hand back, but Steve didn't want that. He wanted that firm touch that didn't treat him like some breakable glass figurine, that reminded him that he was damaged but still alive and could once again be the man he'd been before. Steve slapped his left hand over Danny's, kept Danny's hand along the side of his neck, fitting his fingers over top of Danny's and pushed Danny's hand closer to his skin.

The seconds ticked by as Steve's nerves screamed and he broke out into a sweat all over, yet Steve made himself wait it out, kept his defiant gaze locked on Danny. Then, without warning, his body slowly started to relax and Steve fell away from that razor's edge of reaction; it felt like the breaking of a fever. Danny's eyes were still on him, but his look was much softer now, his own posture less tense. He stayed trustingly pliant and let Steve make the next move, let Steve gently shift their still-flush hands upward and forward until the bottom of Danny's palm cradled the curve of Steve's jaw, his fingertips burying themselves in Steve's short hair. Steve closed his eyes and exhaled again, this time much more calmly, and let himself be pulled forward by Danny until their foreheads touched. He could feel the warm tickle of Danny's breath on his chin and throat, felt the slow glide of the tip of Danny's thumb moving just a little, back and forth along the delicate arch of Steve's ear. Steve turned and ducked his head slightly, and the bridge of his nose brushed against the soft skin of Danny's inner wrist, feeling the faint steady thrum of his pulse.

Lulled by the soothing motion of Danny's thumb, drinking in the smell of him - the cologne he always wore that was subtle yet richly deep like mahogany - Steve started to feel sleepy, felt the last of his adrenaline jag start to fade. He sagged forward slightly, wanting to get closer to Danny's warmth, not even twitching this time when he felt Danny's other hand cup the other side of his jaw, but drowsing in the heat caught between their two bodies. Steve hadn't even noticed how close he'd drifted towards Danny until he realized his forehead was now resting on Danny's shoulder.

The last of Steve's resistance crumbled and before he knew what he was doing, he had his nose buried in the crease between Danny's shoulder and neck, just above the upward curve of his shirt collar. Steve inhaled deeply and breathed out again, making a strange sound that he'd never heard himself make before - a sighing, choked noise that somehow was both desperate and relieved. Danny's arms were suddenly tight around Steve's middle, his arms snug under Steve's armpits, his hands sliding upward swiftly over Steve's dark blue NAVY tee shirt to fist as much as they could in his short not-quite-buzzed hair. Steve waited for his body to react, waited for that lightning to race ragged along his nerves, but instead he just felt warm...comforted... like he was finally home.

Keeping his eyes closed, Steve slowly, almost tentatively, slid his own arms around Danny's waist, fingertips gliding along the soft white cotton of Danny's fitted tee until Steve's hands rested along the dip of Danny's spine. While Danny rubbed along the curve of Steve's shoulder blade with one hand, the other still in his hair, Danny's face was close by Steve's left ear, mumbling softly:

"This... is so...so long overdue, babe. So overdue."

Steve didn't reply but his hands fisted themselves in the hem at the back of Danny's shirt and he leaned more into Danny, finally stopped trying to keep himself upright, letting Danny take Steve's full weight and relaxing further when Danny did so with no effort. Maybe Danny had been waiting all this time for Steve to let Danny carry him, to shoulder some of the weight Steve was struggling to hold up, maybe Danny needed to act as Steve's ballast as much as Steve needed him to. Their partnership, their friendship, all that was between them now was based on that give and take, the near-instinctive trust they had with each other. Now, in the soft quiet of Danny's old room, a new part of that trust and need was unfolding between them: no delicate blossom but more like hot steel, tempered and tested by hammer strikes at the anvil, now allowed to cool into a new shape. It was a bond reforged by all they had overcome, finally given expression, finally acknowledged.

Steve knew he should let go and return to his own bed, but when he tried to reluctantly move away, Danny's grip tightened around him. Steve lifted his head to rest his chin on Danny's shoulder for a minute before laying his cheek on it instead and murmured with no real enthusiasm:

"...You should go back to sleep, Danno. You must be beat."

Danny made a soft hum of agreement and started to lean backwards, slowly pulling Steve with him despite Steve's weak attempts to protest. It was bad enough when one of them tried to fit on those tiny kid beds, but two full-grown men trying to fit on one together should be like some sort of contortionist exercise. And yet somehow Danny rearranged the both of them to fit: Steve found himself curled up on his side, nearly on top of Danny, in a way that was surprisingly comfortable, with his cheek now resting on Danny's chest, just above his heart.

"...Gonna crush you, are you sure...?" Steve muttered, fighting the urge to just melt over Danny. His partner, in turn, chuckled quietly and raked his nails lightly along Steve's scalp, causing a much more gentle and pleasant body shudder to zing along Steve's body.

"It'll take more than a couple of pounds of sleepy super-SEAL to crush me. And I think we've both done enough sleeping alone to last a lifetime, Steve."

Danny then wrapped his arms back around Steve and cradled him like he was never going to let him go. Finally safe and sound, Steve fell asleep listening to the regular rhythm of Danny's breathing, to the sound of his heart beating perhaps a little bit fast, but steady and still as strong as ever.

 

-fin-  
6.9.11


End file.
